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Chapter 1: Into the Fray
Here we go, again into the fray. I had my task. I had my job. My duty was to be done. For I have pledged unto a Demon Lord to serve him with my life. There was to be no more abandonment, no more backstabbing, only honour and truth will guide us. I am Xagu, an Orc who once pledged to the God I thought was right and just, but I turned to the dark side and joined a cult in order to cultivate my own nonsense that was clouding up my thoughts. After being left for dead by the ones I trust, I only had one choice – to plead. To Drallith my Lord, I again thank thee for the offer of retribution you have gifted unto me. May Lezhaar’s name be heard loud and true in all the realms of all the worlds. May his prophecies be fulfilled and his legacies awed. May his reign last longer than time itself dare to question. I plunge into this new world with open arms and an open mind. My missions will be delivered when required, and my reputation is to be created swiftly and powerfully. I am about to cross the border now. There’s a small camp near by, and a peasant-man looks like he’s stalking a horse. Perhaps he needs an escape. Perhaps he is hungry. Either way, I had better go and take a look. Part 1: Bound Pain. Headache. Dizzy. Awake. That was an improvement at least. Looking around I saw that I was in a wagon, only as a prisoner. Landscape flowed passed us as we traversed into the snowy pines. The Wagon Rider looked like a soldier, clad in chain and leather armour. I do not remember much that occurred in the past hour. I remember shouting, ambush, being chased and caught and loaded onto a wagon. There is another wagon in front, also loaded with prisoners. Seems like quite the jackpot for a bunch of what I would speculate as probable slave-traders. Humans. All humans on the wagon – both the soldiers and the prisoners. Except for me of course. Was this sector so xenophobic to deny the value of some aberrant slaves? No wonder Drallith required this realm to be cleansed. One of the prisoners informs me that I am awake. Thank god for that; otherwise I would’ve never known (End sarcasm). I feel like clobbering him over the ear for his stupidity, but I find that my hands are bound. The slave talks of some empire setting up an ambush. Also in the wagon is the horse-thief. Apparently the fourth prisoner is a jarl. At first glance he looks overrated. I doubt his bark is as bad as his bite, but just in case it seemed that he has been gagged with a cloth over his mouth to prevent any…religious speeches? Boy the people of this land must worship strange things. Mind you, they are humans, and I have seen humans worship even stranger things in the past. We head into a fort filled with soldiers. The prisoners curse at elves (unexpected hey!) and talks about the imperials again. The wagons stop and we get asked to evacuate the transports. End of the line. Lists. Empire loves their damn lists. Not my words, but it seems pretty fitting. The horse thief tries to run, but takes an arrow to the back and falls dead to the ground. Weak. Its not like he took it in the knee. The guard asks who I am, so I tell him the truth. I am Xagu, an Acolyte of Lezhaar following the willful orders of Drallith. I have been sent to this realm to purge the unrighteous and cleanse this land from the filth that dwells in it. He barks something at me about heresy or black magic or some kind of talos worshiper. Whatever a talos is. Regardless, he shunts me towards the executioner and I get into line. Looks like today I am purged. Tomorrow I will rise again, by the will of Drallith, who I hope will not imprison my soul after the failure. As a side note, why execute these slaves? Have these guys never heard of concentration camp systems? It’s incredibly efficient and questionable. I lay down on the block, and I hear a scream. Drallith? A dragon flies out of the sky and lands on the tower behind the executioner, knocking him to the ground. It creates a thunderstorm around it and sends a ball of lightning into the guards.I stumble around and head towards the nearest shelter. Up, up, up the stairs we run, only to be met with the dragon crashing through the wall of the tower and blasting the area with flame. I just manage to take cover, but the same cannot be said for the other slaves who were here. As I crashed through the burning buildings I finally found a clearing. Seems like these imperials now wanted to band together with me to kill the dragon. Hah. Trust me, if I wasn’t bound I would slaughter the bastards for enslaving me in the first place. But for now, we must act in mutually beneficial ways. I will have my revenge; don’t worry about that. We meet up with some of the other slaves. Stormcloaks or something. They seem a nicer folk than the Imperials. I ditch the imperial bastard and head into the keep to escape with the rebels. I won’t be joining their cause anytime soon, but I’ll feel more at peace escaping with them than befriending my captors. The slave calls the dragons the harbingers of the end of time. Trust me, the shit that I’ve seen working with a Demon lord, dragons are hardly the harbingers. He unties my hands and I borrow some equipment from a fallen corpse to protect myself. It was obvious that I would have to fight my way out of this mess. Part 2: Unbound The gate opens and some Empire soldiers charge in at us, but we make short work of them. One of them had a nice set of plate armour. Had. It’s mine now – all for the greater good though, I insist, as it’ll allow me to spread the word much more efficiently. Technically it’s right, because with this armour keeping me alive, I can talk for far longer than if I were to be killed due to a lack of armour. Wearing the plates reminded me of my days in the orc army. Ah, the good old days of yesteryear. We fight our way through some more Imperials, and I manage to get my hand on some potions. They look pretty much the same as far as I can tell. I’ll have to test their quality at a more suitable time. I find a prison sector, and find a dead mage in the cells. While his soul has perished, his robes would be very useful for when I take up my position as local acolyte of the region. A man of his Diety can’t always prance around in Imperial Armour, after all. We plunged through the dungeon past where the guards ended and got to the nasty spiders and the ferocious bears, but they were no match for the might of Drallith’s acolyte. As we broke into the clearing, the Stormcloak soldier thanked me for my assistance and told me to go to riverwood to meet up with a friend who runs the mill. Some supplies could be invaluable to my future quests, so I believe that this is a necessity. I must stock up at the mill and then await my orders for my first mission from Drallith. I walked with the stormcloak soldier to riverwood, where we spent the day with his friend. I got my supplies and went to the local blacksmith to get some new tools. I would stay here the night and then head out tomorrow on my quest. I was asked to deliver a message to the jarl of Whiterun, but that would have to wait until Drallith has nothing for me to do. Some quests take priority I’m afraid. I needed a direction, and I received it that night. Drallith came to me in my dream. He told me to head to brittleshin pass. It is currently occupied by a novice necromancer who’s lust for an unworthy god has been so great that Drallith couldn’t ignore his existence if he tried. He also happens to inhabit a centrally-located lair from which I would use as my home base for a good early portion of my time here. I thanked Drallith for the direction, and continued to sleep. Part 3: Brittleshin Pass I awoke at the crack of dawn. I quickly thanked the stormcloaks for the hospitality before I headed out into the world. Brittleshin past was to the north-west of here, so I had to get moving. At least the scenery was good to look at. After a long morning’s walk, I made it to the southern entrance of Brittleshin Path. I unwaringly walked straight into a frost-ward on the ground, leaving me cold and sore. I need to be more aware if I am interested in continual life quality in this realm, I thought. I pressed on, drawing my sword in one hand and channeling up some elemental lightning in the other. I made short work of the skeletons with my elemental power. Their swords look ancient and ritualistic – this could be a great template from where I start. Enchantments will form a core necessity in ritual commandments, and if this place were to have some arcane equipment it would be amazing. I slaughtered the necromancer and his petty minions, before searching his lair for some goodies. Excellent – an enchanting table. I got one of the skeleton’s ritualistic swords and enchanted it with some elemental lightning. Its bonuses are not very much but its charges should stay strong for some time yet. After all, it’s only really here as a personal statement rather than a weapon. All that matters is that I now have a home, or at least, somewhere to come back to after a hard day’s work of cleansing the world. Tomorrow, I head for whiterun to inform the Jarl of the Dragon that attacked a good two days ago. Still quicker than messages sent by post, damn stalker-mail. A slug could deliver faster messages...